In the parlor, he set his niece down on the corner of the sofa. She immediately opened her book. His sister lowered herself to a spot beside her daughter and lovingly brushed her fingers over her dark hair. He took a nearby chair, absorbing the tranquil sight, feeling an unwanted ache in his chest because his life had yet to bring him similar moments.

Her hand never leaving her daughter’s hair, Sylvie looked over at him. “About this favor. I’m hosting a ball at the end of the month and it would be quite a coup for me if you were to make an appearance. As I’ve mentioned, you’re all the talk. Some good should come from this sabbatical from Society you’ve taken.”

Some good was coming of it. He was once again enjoying his life. “I have no desire to step into the whirl that is the Social Season.”

“But it will be the perfect opportunity for your foray back into Society. I have invited the most popular debutantes.”

He already knew he wasn’t interested in the ones who’d made an appearance at his door. “Would Fancy Trewlove be included on that list?”

Her head jerking back slightly as though he’d tweaked her nose, she blinked, blinked, and blinked again. “Not at the moment. I hadn’t yet decided if I would invite her. How do you know of her?”

“Her bookshop is in the same area as the residence I’m leasing. As a matter of fact, I purchased Tillie’s book from her this afternoon. I assume you met her at the Thornley ball.”

“I did. I found her to be beautiful, poised, and confident. To look at her, you wouldn’t know she was”—she glanced over at her daughter before lowering her voice to a whisper—“unlawful.”

“It seems to me that term should be used for those who don’t adhere to the laws, not those who have no say in how they are born.”

Her entire body gave a little twitch as though his words had been tiny stones pelted at her. “That’s certainly a novel thought. I’m not certain your avoidance of Society is to your benefit if it’s filling your head with such odd notions.”

He was ashamed to admit a time existed when he’d have judged Fancy by her origins rather than herself. “Invite Miss Trewlove to your ball.”

His sister went so still he wasn’t certain she continued to breathe. Very primly, she knitted her fingers together and folded them in her lap, her gaze sharp like a raven’s. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I asked.”

“She’s not accepted.”

“An invitation to your affair will make her so.”

“What is she to you?”